


By Your Side, Always

by transnoctis



Series: New Romantics [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, New York City, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Trans Noctis Lucis Caelum, dadbod prompto argentum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25479511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transnoctis/pseuds/transnoctis
Summary: During the summer of '89 in New York City, Noctis has his life turned upside down for a variety of reasons.He just never thought some blond, freckled punk would be one of them.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: New Romantics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845775
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	By Your Side, Always

**Author's Note:**

> worked on this chapter in bits for fun in june, saw [this post](https://nananasonatra.tumblr.com/post/622463702910844928/personal-hc-for-prompto-hes-a-drummer-boy-just), made some changes for papasote prom, finally got around to actually working on it, and here we are. if its too ooc for you, my fault. if its just bad, lmaoooooooooooo yeah
> 
> cw: drinking for this chapter

»»————- ☠ ————-««

Gladio is on his third beer of the evening when Noctis finally caves, chest deflating in a familiar defeat.

“ _Fine,_ we can go––but if any of your friends act funny, I’m out,” Noctis sighs, attempting to ignore the uncomfortable fluttering in his chest. He grabs the Corona bottle from Gladio and downs the half-finished drink, hoping its bitterness would soothe his nerves. It doesn’t.

Gladio flashes a grin from his worn-down leather loveseat before he jumps, clasping his palms over his friend’s shoulder, energetic as always. “Nah, they won’t, they’re all cool people. Trust me, you’ll have a good time. Or just _a_ time, at least,” Gladio rambles teasingly in the middle of the room, inching towards his bedroom. He cards his fingers through the dark locks of his mullet before leaving Noctis alone, presumably to pick out another outfit and fix his hair for the third time today.

With nothing to do except stare out the window and wait, Noctis drops himself into the warm space Gladio had moped in for the past five minutes while Noctis listed all the reasons he _really_ didn’t want to show up at a stranger’s place and force interactions with others, most of which revolve around his anxiety of being in groups of unknown people. Gladio was all but ready to call it a day and stay in with mediocre delivery pizza and a VHS tape of some movie with Sigourney Weaver when guilt had crept into Noctis’ consciousness. For him to stay in was one thing, but for Gladio to stay in is something else––something that has Noctis feeling terrible for forcing his closest friend to choose him over what the other considers a good time. Whatever. If he has fun, he has fun. If he doesn’t, he doesn’t. No big deal.

“Noct, you need anything to get ready?” Gladio offers over the record he popped in prior to entering his bathroom.

Noctis kicks up his feet on the old marble center table in the living room with two loud _bang_ s, humming along to a tune he believes is by Pet Shop Boys or some such shit. He stares out the window opposite him, watching a 7-line subway hide behind overgrown trees. For a second, he feels uneasy in his decision to not run back home for a change of clothes––Gladio’s wardrobe was a no-go––but he eventually settles in his choice of clothing, deciding it’s not worth the subway ride to change out of his all-black ensemble. Who’s he trying to impress, anyway? He could make do with cleaning up his combat boots or touching up his hair if he's worried about his appearance, but he considers that too much work for such a hot evening. 

“Nah, I’m alright. Just hurry it up, or I’ll change my mind again.” Noctis jokes, chuckling at the sound of Gladio running back into his room to fumble with his shoes.

“No need, I’m done. What d’ya think?” Gladio flexes in a sequence of multiple angles for Noctis, who rolls his eyes at the bigger man. Gladio is in his favorite pair of steel-toed boots, dark jeans, and––

“Unbuttoned jacket with no shirt. _Who_ exactly is gonna be there, again?” Noctis cracks a lopsided smirk at his friend, who returns the smile as he pats down his own pockets.

“I don’t need this from someone wearing both a jacket _and_ a shirt. Besides, this is for me. If anyone else happens to like it, that’s their business.” Gladio taps the small breast pocket of his jacket, finding what he’s looking for. “Keys. Let’s roll, your Highness.” He dramatically motions for Noctis to leave through the front door, waiting for the younger man to push himself out of his spot on the couch.

“Alright, alright. God, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think someone _special_ was gonna be there,” Noctis grumbles softly to himself.

Gladio chuckles, patting an annoyed Noctis on the back. “Let’s just hurry it up. Wouldn’t want to deprive anyone of your presence for any longer.”

»»————- ☠ ————-««

The sun has already begun to set in the warm summer skies of New York City, yet the crowds of people continue to buzz through one another, bumbling to their destinations in a painted red hue. The humid city smog wriggles through the cracks of spaces between running vehicles and buildings overflowing with life as Noctis waits for Gladio by the bottom of the apartment steps. Gladio’s landlord is smoking a cigarette outside the Lucky Star Laundromat beneath the apartment as the pair make tracks towards their destination, energetically greeting the grumpy old man who raises his empty hand half-heartedly.

The scorching city heat grows stronger as the two men continue to walk down the neighboring blocks. Noctis groans every time he feels beads of sweat trail down his temples. “‘s so _humid,_ Gladio. Couldn’t we have let them come to us?” the younger man asks, fanning himself while he pushes his hair away from his face for some brief alleviations, waiting for the pedestrian light to turn.

“And have my landlord kick me out?” Gladio shakes his head, waving for a yellow cab to turn before them. “Nah, I like cheap rent. Besides,” he reaches an arm over Noct’s shoulders and brings him closer, “there’ll be free beer.”

“There’s free beer for me in your fridge, _jackass._ ” Noctis swats Gladio’s arm away, who laughs and jogs across the busy street to catch up to his annoyed friend.

“C’mon, give my friends a chance. Most of them already heard about you, and they already like you,” he offers in assurance.

“Oh, yeah? From who?”

“Me! I told them you’re the toughest, meanest kid on the block. They’ll be cool.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Noctis laughs, feeling his nerves subside a bit. “Alright, I’ll be cool.”

»»————- ☠ ————-««

Noctis hears obnoxious synths coming from the speakers of an old red Camaro down the block before he recognizes one of the faces of the people leaning up against it as his ex-girlfriend of almost two years, Luna.

“Noct! Gladio!” Luna greets and waves both men over, her voice as sweet as ever as she peels herself off the car’s trunk. Beside her, two women turn to watch as the pair of friends move in.

Gladio enthusiastically returns the greeting, with Noctis trailing slightly behind. “Lady Luna, what’s up? I didn’t know you were gonna be here,” Gladio admits as he wraps his arms around the small blonde in a friendly embrace. “Sania and Cindy, too! The gang’s all here.”

“Aranea told me you’d be coming, so how could we not make an appearance?” Luna laughs, locking eyes with Noctis, who nods a greeting to Luna’s friends. “Noct! Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever. How is everything?” she asks, pulling in the quieter man for a hug.

“All good, how are you?” he returns, kissing Luna’s blushed cheek before loosening their embrace.

“Can’t complain. Work has been good.” She motions towards the two women sharing glances between themselves and Gladio. “These are my friends, Sania and Cindy. Sania works with me––she’s a veterinarian––, and Cindy’s a mechanic over at Hammerhead nearby. Girls, this is Noct.”

Both women acknowledge Noctis warmly, who returns their friendly greeting. Sania, in her orange bucket hat and mocha brown curls, pushes her black round glasses to rest on the low bridge of her nose. Cindy, the baby blonde sitting on the car’s trunk behind her, adjusts her Hammerhead trucker hat and continues to absentmindedly play with the binoculars resting on Sania’s neck.

“Noct, as in Regis’ Noctis?” Cindy asks in mild surprise. “Your daddy’s a client of mine! Well, my grandpa’s. Cid. You ever heard of ‘im? Probably not. Anyways, your daddy––oh, he loves you a whole bunch, talks about you a lot. Sad thing about your car though. Sure is a pretty thing,” she comments before Sania shoves her in fun.

“Sorry about her, she just really, _really,_ loves that car of yours,” Sania adds as Cindy’s arms snake around her, the mechanic’s chin resting on Sania’s orange hat.

Beside him, Gladio grins brightly. “Don’t remind him, he’s still touchy about it. He’s had to ride the subway for the past two weeks. The subway. Noct. On the _subway._ ”

The girls giggle around the two men. “Ha-ha. Funny.” Noctis emphasizes each syllable as Gladio widens his grin. “Laugh it up, Gladio, but when I get my girl back, you’re _never_ setting foot in her ever again.”

“Fine by me. Prevents me from dying an early death,” Gladio retorts, and Noctis joins the girls to laugh along with him, although unwillingly, and their laughter removes some of the heaviness of the still mid-summer air. Silently, he thanks Sania and Gladio for changing the subject, and reminds himself not to blame Cindy for recognizing him.

“Oh, guys––there’s beer by the steps. You want one?” Luna asks Noctis and Gladio.

Gladio agrees to _just one,_ as does Cindy and Sania. Noctis declines, mentioning needing to use the restroom, because god _damn_ does beer always go through him.

That’s when Luna calls over a white-hot platinum, tough-looking woman with multiple piercings and various tattoos on her exposed skin, some pieces twisting and turning along with the contours of her body. Noctis watches as she makes her way to the small group, her heels clacking against the melting concrete, and it’s there when he realizes that the toughest feature about her is the fact that she’s wearing black leather pants in 100-degree weather.

“Aranea, Noctis here was wondering if he could use your restroom.” Luna explains, playing with the excess material of her white bohemian dress.

Aranea gives Noctis a once-over while Luna smiles softly beside her, a deep contrast to the intimidating woman with charcoal-lined pale emerald eyes. Breaking the long-held silence, she nods her head back, adding a “Yeah, sure,” before turning away.

Noctis follows Aranea to the crowded stoop beyond the tall rusting gates, greeting the unknown faces who allow him passage through their clashing warm bodies. He’s sure he’s seen some of them around somewhere, their voices seeming familiar from some such place, their wacky hairstyles popping into his memory from another such place, but his memory is way too fucked to remember.

Noct continues to trail the woman through the thin entranceway when she stops at the first staircase, the last of her footsteps echoing in the dim hallways of her apartment building. “So, my apartment is on the third floor. 3F. It’s unlocked, so you can just let yourself in. The door to the bathroom is to the right as soon as you enter. You want me to walk you up, or…?”

“Nah, I can manage. Thank you, Aranea.”

She waves Noctis off. “Don’t mention it. The door to my room is locked though, so if you’re thinking about snooping around––don’t.” The menacing look Aranea leaves Noctis with doesn’t allow him to answer as she walks away, the sound of her heels bouncing in the empty hall.

Walking up the first staircase, each step comes with a complaint from under Noct’s boots. The hallways in the apartment building are confined and bland, their walls shades of yellowing white underneath harsh lighting, much like the rest of the buildings on the block. The windows are grimy and offer little scenery, except for the view of old brick walls and mirroring windows. Most doors in the building are open, providing sneak peeks into the lives of Aranea’s neighbors. Someone on the first floor complains about their kids not helping with dinner, their voice shrill in anger. Somewhere farther up, Noctis hears Bruce Springsteen’s lyrics dance along with the filtering legs of insects on the walls and ceilings.

It’s on the second floor that Noctis is blocked by someone in his path. The unknown sun-kissed blond faces away from him, standing before the final set of stairs, sporting an inky jean vest and idly messing with the black bandana ties over his right bicep. Noctis notices the freckles delicately painted on the vague definition of the man’s arms as he stretches, muscles dancing underneath his skin in the harsh hallway lights.

Noctis clears his throat, pulling thoughts and growing impatient as the stranger fumbles with his outfit. “Excuse me.”

The young blond turns in place, facing Noctis directly. “Oh! My fault, I thought you were one of the Riveras again.” The stranger adjusts the brim of his glasses, frosty blue gaze dancing on Noct’s features as he cleared the path to the third floor.

“Nah, you’re good,” is all that Noctis offers before leaving up the last of the stairs. Behind him, he hears the man mumble something to himself.

»»————- ☠ ————-««

“Your highness! Have a beer!” Gladio greets Noctis, who is busy trying not to step on the growing pack of people sitting on the front stoop as he descends. From the steps, he sees Aranea has joined the group around the Camaro, along with the mumbling punk from the hallway, and a taller man with an ash-gray quiff and sunglasses.

“Maybe later,” Noctis says, declining the beer in his friend’s extended hand. “Uh, where are Sania and Cindy?”

“Had to leave, since Cindy works tomorrow morning and Sania’s crashing at her place tonight, so––“ Gladio explains, shrugging. “Noct, you’ve met Aranea. This is Prompto and Ignis.” He gestures towards the newer additions to their group.

The taller of the pair, _Ignis,_ Noctis corrects himself, presents an extended hand, which Noctis accepts.

“Oh, so the staircase stranger has a name! Mystery solved,” Prompto jokes beside Ignis, extending his arm in similar fashion for a handshake.

Noctis scoffs at the absurd nickname, a slow smile growing on his face as he accepts the other man’s hand. He notices Prompto’s grip is _way too fucking tight,_ and he’s certain he feels the beginning of calluses forming on the other man’s palms.

“Staircase stranger?” Aranea takes a pensive swig from her drink. “Oh, so you thought––“

“Hey, Aranea, could you help me bring out more beer for everyone? I heard Dino complaining about running low over there,” Luna interrupts, grabbing Aranea’s hand in hers, already heading for the apartment building. Aranea hardly has time to put her drink in Prompto’s hand before she’s whisked away by the other woman, leaving both Prompto and Noctis at a loss for words. 

Beside Noctis, Ignis and Gladio are already deep in their own discussion, laughing amongst each other underneath a darkening summer sky, music flowing in and out of their conversation. Noctis rolls his eyes. Of _course_ there was someone special here, and of _course_ Noctis was now stuck making conversation with someone he’s exchanged two whole sentences with. Great.

“So,” Prompto speaks up, breaking the awkward silence. “I take it you know Gladio pretty well, huh?

Noctis leans against the car, crossing his arms against his chest. “Yeah, we’re pretty close. I’ve known him since high school.”

“Huh. I would’ve thought you’ve known each other for longer. He talks about you like you’re his brother or something.”

Noctis makes a funny face, thinking it weird that Gladio would speak about him to someone like Prompto. “He talks about me that much?” He glances over at Gladio, who laughs at something Ignis said.

“Yeah! I see the guy like, three to four times a week, and he always mentions you when we’re at the gym. I feel like I kinda know you without _knowing_ you. Uh––I mean, I don’t know anything embarrassing or weird, just regular stuff friends would know,” Prompto stumbles, taking a sip from his drink.

Noctis laughs silently. “Oh yeah? Like what? What do you know about me that only someone like Gladio would know?”

Prompto bites at his lower lip, pointing at his chin with the hand holding his drink. “Like… I know you broke your clavicle doing something stupid as a kid, and the cops gave your family a hard time about it because they thought your dad was telling you to not tell them the truth, when in reality, you were just jumping on your bed and landed wrong. Does that count?”

“Wait." Noctis shakes his head. “He told you about that? How could that _possibly_ have come up naturally in conversation?”

“Oh, that’s ‘cause I mentioned spraining my collarbone and being afraid that it was broken, and Gladio was like, ‘No way, if it was, you’d know it because I have a friend and his name is Noctis and one time when he was real young, he broke his clavicle so bad the cops had to question him separately from his family because they thought his dad had something to do with it, but he just fell while jumping on his bed, and he had to have surgery and wear a sling for weeks!’ Anyways, it turns out I actually had sprained my _shoulder_ , and it went away after a week or two. He wouldn’t stop complaining about having random people spot him at the gym, though.”

Noctis snorts softly as Prompto drinks the last of his beer. “Oh, well, I guess that fact _could_ have come up organically in conversation.”

“It did! You believe me, right? I’m not some freak stalker, I swear.” He reaches into the backseat of the car through the open window, pulling out two fresh beer cans. “Want one?”

“Sure, staircase _stalker,_ ” Noctis jokes, cracking open the Heineken can.

“Here we go––first of all, I was already there, so how could I be stalking you?” Prompto asks Noctis, blue eyes glistening with humor underneath the streetlight.

“Who knows? Maybe you’re just that good. Maybe you knew I was heading up there, and you conveniently placed yourself there. I don’t know how a stalker’s mind works.”

The blond punk threw his head back in amusement. “Oh! C’mon, no one’s that good. It was just pure coincidence.”

“Sure, whatever you say, staircase stalker,” Noct quips from behind his drink, to which Prompto rolls his eyes. Behind him, he hears a familiar tune. “Oh, I love this song.”

Prompto struggles to hear the music, straining his ears until the beat finally kicks in, and he widens his eyes, a baffled expression on his face. “Numan? Gary _fucking Numan?_ ”

“Yeah, Gary Numan.” He lets a second of silence pass. “He makes good music, okay?”

Prompto, still in shock about Noctis’ questionable tastes, scoffs at the statement. “Gary Numan is absolute _ass,_ and only boring parents listen to his shit. God, how old are you?”

“I’m allowed to be in my twenties and like Gary Numan, okay?”

“ _No!_ ” Prompto practically shouts above the music and growing volume of the many conversations occurring at once. “I revoke your youth card. You are officially middle-aged and have terrible taste in music.”

“Whatever,” Noctis rolls his eyes jokingly. “Grow up a little and then talk.”

“Sure, in thirty years I’ll be in my fifties, think you can wait that long without dying on me, old man?” The blond’s eyes twinkle as he jokes, and Noctis breaks their seriousness with laughter before Prompto joins in.

Ignis breaks up their laughter when he places himself beside them. “Prompto, it’s 9PM.”

In front of him, Noctis watches silently as Prompto’s expressions changes from glee to absolute despair. He thinks it’s kinda funny.

“Ugh. Thank you, Ignis, for reminding me I have a morning shift on a Saturday.” He finishes the rest of his canned beer in a few seconds, wiping the drops of liquid trickling from corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Noct, it’s been real, but capitalism calls me for duty.” He salutes Noctis, who has yet to move from his spot. “Gladio, Iggy, see you tomorrow? And can you tell the two lovebirds I said goodbye?” he asks, and the pair nod and say their goodbyes.

Noctis watches in silence, nursing his drink, as Prompto holds a hand out, fingers stretched to touch the bars of the metal gates as he walks past, heading towards the large group at the stoop. He takes a sip while Prompto says his farewells, noticing how he addresses every single person and leaves them laughing at a joke Noctis cannot hear from where he rests. When Prompto turns away, Noct studies the blond as he saunters down the illuminated streets, his shadow dancing on the neighborhood sidewalk. Once he's is no longer in sight, Noctis turns to pay attention to the two men on the other side of the car, feeling strangely hollow.

»»————- ☠ ————-««

**Author's Note:**

> music the gang is listening to:
> 
> gladio when hes getting ready: what have i done to deserve this? by pet shop boys
> 
> music from luna's beat-up car when gladio and noct show up: (keep feeling) fascination by the human league
> 
> music someone is singing that noct hears in the hallway: dancin' in the dark by bruce springsteen (duh)
> 
> music i believe noct hears when hes being a creep and watching prom leave: boys say go! by depeche mode
> 
> \--
> 
> [tumblr](https://www.2dboy.tumblr.com) for i don't know hate mail or like questions. or you can leave a comment here and i'll get back to you.
> 
> \--
> 
> proms pov coming soon. i don't know this weekend? next week? stay tuned? sorry if it sucked lmao???
> 
> thanks for reading, much love
> 
> ariel


End file.
